Breathing
by whimsical kitsch
Summary: Ever had one of those moments when you feel like you're going everywhere at once? Harry has.


Well, this was just something I decided to write on a whim. I've always loved those little moments where you feel like you're going in all directions at once, and I figure Harry must have experienced it at some point. This is my take.

Also, I'm really sorry about not updating anything since like, a LONG time ago. I'm just having a few problems. Please forgive me if you are one of my readers.

**Disclaimer:** If Harry Potter were mine Dumbledore would still be alive.

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A single bolt of light zipped through the night sky, illuminating the darkness and the gray clouds around for a split moment of time, leaving a smoky, glittering trail behind it.

"Make a wish, Harry," he whispered, so softly that it could have been mistaken for a wandering breeze. Harry took a sigh and rested his chin on his knuckle, staring forlornly out at space.

"Peace," he breathed. "I wish for peace. And nothing to worry about. No more Voldemort and no more death. For my parents to be here, for Sirius and Dumbledore to be here. Anyone to tell me what to do."

His eyes stung, and he blinked back hot tears. His temper flared. He was angry, not only at the world but at himself.

"Why do things have to be this way?" he screamed out at the sky, standing up and pounding his fist on the stone railing. "Why does there have to pain and loss and sadness?"

A single tear, shining by the light of the stars, slid down his cheek. "Why do I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders?" he cried, sliding down to the hard floor of the astronomy tower. He wanted to sob, to scream, to do anything but think. To just be.

But he couldn't just be, could he? He had to find the horcruxes, had to defeat Voldemort before he was killed, had to save the wizarding world…

…Had to do his duty.

_To hell with duty! _He thought angrily. _I never asked for this! I'd rather be dead and with my parents right now than alive and stuck with this stupid scar!_

He wanted to destroy something and cry and laugh and be hugged, all at the same time. He ran a shaky hand through his messy black hair and sighed again, an occurrence not uncommon since the death of Dumbledore.

And what about Ginny? How could he have been so stupid as to let her go like that? What if they could never glue back the pieces of their relationship again? Of course, it was all for the best and for her safety, as well as his, but all the same- _he needed her. _More than he had ever needed anyone for a long time.

Hermione and Ron were just as supportive as ever. It struck him how they could stick by him, even when he was outcast and accused of crimes, even when he was moody and selfish, and especially even when he had the world's most powerful dark lord after him.

Harry was sobbing now, unaware of the world around him as it blurred by. He slid to his knees and let his tears run down onto the stone floor. He stood, stumbled, and ended up leaning back against the railing where he had started off. And somehow, he knew what was ahead of him:

A thousand sleepless nights full of turmoil and torment, a thousand moments when time stopped and nothing mattered but being alive, a thousand knives of pain and sorrow constantly jabbing into his skin. And a thousand bursts of love and happiness and laughter, muffling out all the rest.

He used his heavy robe sleeve to wipe his face dry, and stared back up at the stars. One single pinprick of white light, Mars, he guessed it to be, winked. It could have just been the aftermath f his weeping session, or a product of the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions and raw passions still in his gut, but his entire being seemed to be screaming- _Just keep going. Just breathe._

And, as he fell back down once again on his back and slid off his robe so that he was in his nightshirt and exposed to the biting cold, simply to feel, he laughed, a single noise in the dead of the Hogwarts night, and smiled to himself. Now he felt that all that mattered was him lying there and- simply being.

Simply breathing.

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I have somewhat mixed feelings about this, to be honest. Like, I like the general feeling of it, but some of the stuff I wrote is just… weird. But, I suppose that if you're not the next Christopher Paolini, it's a bit hard for someone of my… experience level to capture all those emotions in writing. I'm just not talented enough to do that. All weirdness aside, I hope you enjoyed it, and if you didn't, just review anyway and leave your thoughts. Please.


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